by Kris Calvert
I pulled up to the door, and before I could even kill the engine Sam was bounding down the front steps. “Hey there, lovely,” I crooned as I got out the car. “You didn’t need to be johnny-on-the-spot, baby. I would’ve come to the door to collect you.”
“I saw you coming down the lane. Am I dressed okay for the evening?” she asked, giving me a little twirl in her full sundress.
“You’re beautiful.”
Her white dress tied around her neck, and she wore a yellow sweater accented with tiny flowers. Draped across her collarbone were the same pearls she wore last night. Her hair was already convertible ready in a long ponytail. “You’re dressed perfectly for our picnic,” I informed her.
“Is that what we’re up to tonight?”
“Maybe. We’ll see what kind of trouble we can get into,” I said as I opened her car door.
“Whatever kind of trouble you’ve got planned, Mac—” She paused, giving me a serious look. “Know that I really need to be home tonight.”
“I understand.” I winked at her as I slid into my seat and started the car.
She donned her Ray Ban Wayfarers and flashed me a huge smile as we headed down the lane to the highway.
“Are you going to tell me where we are going?”
“You’re on a need-to-know basis at this point of the assignment.”
“Damn you FBI agents. Always keeping everyone in the dark.”
“We do our best.”
Bob Segar rang out through the car and into the open air and I noticed Sam was mouthing the words: And points of her own, sitting way up high, way up firm and high.
She was smart, beautiful and sexy as hell—a killer combination. I didn’t know if I’d survive her. “Settle in, babe,” I drawled, taking her hand in mine and giving it a kiss. “We have a little bit of a trip.”
I took the next exit for Montgomery and gave Sam a slight glance, looking for a reaction. I got nothing. After a while she took it upon herself to turn down the radio and began to ask some questions.
“Are we going to Montgomery?”
“Maybe,” I said, glancing her way and then back to the road. “Would it be okay if we weren’t going to Montgomery?”
“Sure,” she replied with a small laugh. She tried to play it off as if she wasn’t intrigued—but I knew she was.
As we got closer to the city I took the first exit for the Kershaw private airfield, which caused Samantha to shoot me a what the hell? look.
“What’s that look for?”
“Nothing.”
Nothing is one of the words a man never wants to hear from a woman. If a guy asks, what’s wrong? and you get nothing in reply, you’re in deep shit. I didn’t know if she was angry, curious or excited.
I pulled into the private airfield and onto the tarmac where we were met immediately by the valet. “Good evening, Mr. Callahan. They’re ready for you.”
“Thank you.” I quickly made my way around the car to collect Sam.
“Do you have any bags, sir?”
“Just a couple of items,” I said, opening the trunk and motioning to the picnic basket. I grabbed the book and tucked it under my arm.
“What are we doing?” asked Samantha.
“The question you should be asking is where are we going. C’mon sweetheart,” I grinned, leading her to the private jet on the runway.
“I need to be home tonight, Mac,” she said, stopping in her tracks and pulling my hand back.
“Roger.” I flashed her a smile and gave a small salute. She still wasn’t budging. “I understand, Sam. I promise I’ll have you home tonight before you turn into a pumpkin.”
She shook her head at me and took my arm as we walked the small carpet leading to the plane.
The flight attendant greeted us as we came aboard. “Good evening, Mr. Callahan.”
“Michelle, this is Samantha. She’s going to be traveling with us tonight.”
“Welcome, Samantha,” she said.
Sam nodded and took a deep breath, obviously overwhelmed.
“Have a seat, Sam. We’ll take off in just a bit. I’m gonna say hello to the pilot. I’ll be right back.”
“Seriously?” She grabbed my arm as I made my way up the aisle.
“You okay with this?”
“Yeah,” she conceded, letting go of me and dropping her gaze. “I guess so.”
“Be right back.”
Walking to the front of the plane, I met with Jack, our pilot. “Thanks for doing this on such short notice.”
“No problem, sir. We’re just waiting for the co-pilot and we’ll be ready to take off.”
“Great.”
I walked back to the seats and gave Sam a quick kiss. I loved seeing her vulnerable. Being a single mom, I was certain it wasn’t a side of herself she showed often.
“This is so much to take in, Mac. I mean, really. Who takes a jet somewhere for a picnic?” she asked.
I leaned in for a second kiss. “We do.”
14
MAC
We took off smoothly, and as I gazed over at Sam, I could tell she was a little overwhelmed by the experience. I unbuckled her seatbelt and took her hand in mine. Leading her to the back of the G200, I gestured toward the small couch. “Come sit with me.”
“If this is some scheme to get me to join the mile high club, it’s not going to work,” she said with a smirk.
I laughed. “Not hardly, baby. I just want to have another memorable evening with you.”
“Well, I’d say this is pretty memorable so far. May I ask where we’re going?”
“Of course you can ask. I told you, Sam, I don’t want there to be anything between us.”
“Okay, where are we going?”
“A little island off the coast of Florida.”
“Miss Peterson, may I get you something to drink?” Michelle asked.
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
“For you, Mr. Callahan?”
“I’ll have a glass of sweet tea, Michelle. Thank you.”
“And we’re going to picnic on this island?” Sam asked now that Michelle had disappeared into the galley.
“Yes, we are,” I whispered, leaning in to kiss her tenderly on the mouth, my tongue grazing her lips, teasing her with what was to come. “Is that okay?”
“Yes, it’s fine. It’s wonderful,” she added, not responding to my kiss. “I just wish I’d known.”
“Here you go, Mr. Callahan,” Michelle said, returning with my drink. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything, Miss Peterson?”
“No. Thank you,” Sam replied graciously.
“I’ll leave you two. It’s a short flight, but call me if you need anything,” Michelle said before disappearing for the rest of the flight.
I took a sip of my tea and pulled away from her, giving her space. “I just wanted to surprise you.”
“I don’t mean to sound like a fun-stopper. It’s very romantic and sweet,” Sam said, taking my face in her hands, kissing me deeply. “Let’s start over. Let the fun begin.”
“That’s my girl,” I whispered.
The thirty-minute flight passed quickly as I held Sam in my arms, kissing her every chance I got.
“Miss Peterson and Mr. Callahan,” the captain’s voice boomed over the intercom. “Please take your seats. We will be on the ground in Pensacola momentarily.”
“Come on, love. Let’s get you buckled in for landing.” I took her hand and she gave mine a little squeeze. Even the smallest of things seemed big to me when it came to this girl. I was overcome to say the very least.
We landed without incident and the black town car I’d arranged met us on the runway.
“More traveling?” Sam asked as I guided her into the back seat.
“Just a little.” I motioned to the driver to put the basket and book in the trunk.
We drove the fifteen minutes to the dock in silence, her head on my shoulder. I caressed her lean and muscular arm and kissed her shoulder thinking s
he was too good to be true.
The driver stopped at the end of the wharf and as we stepped out of the car, I could see the fishing boats were in for the night.
“Thank you,” I said to the driver, handing him a tip as I helped Sam out of the car and onto the dock. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you mind terribly to help me carry these?” Grabbing the basket and handing her the book, we walked to the end of the dock.
“We’re still not there?” she asked with astonishment.
“We’re almost there.”
“Watch your step.” I held her hand as she climbed down and onto the 1950 wooden Chris Craft that was once my grandfather’s. I placed the picnic basket in a seat and climbed aboard the Irish Wake.
“Who named the boat?” she asked with a smile.
“Irish Wake? My grandfather—the second McKay. I would be the third McKay.” Pulling the keys from my pocket I looked at Sam, who was shaking her head at me. I gave her a wink and started the engine.
I stood as I navigated the boat and Sam moved in behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist, burying her head in my back. It was eight-fifteen and the sun had all but completely set as we headed out into the open water.
“Don’t worry,” I said as she rubbed my chest through my T-shirt. “We’re almost there.”
“I’m not worried,” Samantha replied. “I’m enchanted.”
I smiled and accelerated—anxious to get where we were going.
*
I could see the fire in the distance on the secluded beach that was my destination. I carefully brought the boat as close to shore as I could without dragging the motor and tossed in the anchor, making a huge splash. I looked at Samantha. “We have arrived.”
I sat to take off my boat shoes and began to roll up my pants.
“How are we getting from here to there?” Sam asked, nodding to the fire roaring on the beach.
“I’m going to carry you.”
“You’ll never make it without getting completely soaked.”
I stopped and looked at the tide, realizing she was right. “I have an idea,” I said, taking off my shirt.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I began to unbutton my jeans, dropping them to the boat deck only to reveal I was commando.
“Sweet Lord,” mumbled Samantha, coming in closer, kissing me and grabbing my bare ass.
“Not yet, baby,” I groaned. “Let’s get to shore.”
I pulled away and Sam lightly stroked my stirring manhood with the palm of her hand, sending chills through my body. I wagged my finger at her. “Naughty, naughty girl.” I climbed over the side of the boat and put my arms up to her. “C’mon, baby.”
She lifted her dress waist-high, exposing her sexy white panties. Sitting on the edge of the boat, she held her arms out and I grabbed her my as she laced them around my neck. The cool waves hit me hard from the thighs down. She was right—we would’ve been soaked.
I carried her all the way from the boat to the blanket that was spread in front of the crackling fire pit on the beach. Setting her down quickly, I headed back into the water to get the basket.
“Be careful, Mac,” she called out to me. “I don’t want you to injure anything that’s really important.”
With a nod, I climbed into the boat and tossed my clothes and shoes in the picnic basket. Carefully, I lowered myself back into the nearly waist-deep water carrying the basket high and keeping it from the waves.
She met me with one of the beach towels that had been left for us by the fire as I made it to shore and put the basket down. Throwing it around my shoulders, keeping my wet body exposed, I kissed her, not wanting to stop. I pulled her closer, getting her dress wet. I craved her, and I wouldn’t be denied.
Without asking permission, I untied the back of her sundress and pushed it to her hips exposing her beautiful bare breasts. I dropped to my knees and shimmied her dress over her perfect bottom, taking her panties with it in one motion.
I moved up to meet her mouth again, lightly running my tongue along her lips—I wanted more than to merely to touch her, I intended to worship her. Without saying a word I picked her up and laid her down on the blanket. Climbing on top of her, I was unable to control my urge to be inside her, yet I wanted to savor every precious moment.
“Are we all alone here?” she asked between kisses.
“All alone, baby.” I groaned, straddling her, my aching shaft laying on her toned stomach. “Good God, Sam, I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”
She grabbed my head, running her fingers through my hair and pulled me into her mouth. I kissed her, meeting her tongue, deep and luscious. I couldn’t get enough of her. I would never be sated. I felt possessed and possessive. I never wanted another man to please Sam the way I would. I kissed her as if it was the last time I would ever have the pleasure of touching her lips. Pulling away, I let my mind go, excitedly thinking of what I wanted.
“What?” she asked, moving her hands from my face to my hair, gently tugging on the long waves I’d developed while home.
I was silent. I could only stare. “What?” she asked again with a smile.
“You make me want to do naughty things to you,” I said with a wicked grin. “I’m going to make love to all of you Samantha—all of you.” Kissing my way down her body, I teased her inner thighs and tight stomach with my mouth, tracing her delicate parts with my tongue. Sam arched her back with each kiss and soft puff of air I breathed on to her flawless skin. I grazed over every inch of her body with my mouth, tempting her over and over—intentionally staying away from her sweet spot.
“Mmmmm, Sam, I love this,” I moaned, coming in closer, stroking and kissing her soft and perfectly waxed sex.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Polly.”
“Polly?” I asked, raising my head in confusion. The amazing woman who was the perfect mixture of adorable and sex on a stick was calling out a woman’s name while I kissed her most private parts.
“My nanny,” she gasped, forcing my head downward. “She made me get the Brazilian wax.”
“Thank you, Polly,” I groaned into her body.
I brushed my lips across her delicate softness repeatedly, finding her point of ecstasy. Pressing it firmly with my tongue, I worked in small circles as her tight core arched in response. She moaned, getting me hotter and harder.
“Come for me baby,” I whispered into her open thigh.
I moved my hands up her hard body, caressing her breasts and in one fluid motion, she pulled my finger into her mouth and began to suck.
“Christ, Sam. I can’t take that. Come for me,” I begged. I could feel her reaching the edge as she arched in wild response.
Like an explosion in slow motion, she gave in and let go, moaning as the ripples of ecstasy flooded through her. “Oh my stars, Mac,” she gasped. “I’ve never felt like that. Ever.”
“My sweet girl.” I kissed her stomach. “I never want anyone to do for you what I do. You, Samantha Peterson, are all mine.”
She pulled my face up to hers and kissed me soulfully, reaching between her legs and guiding me inside her.
I moaned at the first sensation, so warm and wet. I knew it wasn’t going to take me long to climax. Slowly and deliberately I delved deeper into her with each rhythmic push. She gasped as I rocked in unconscious time, moving with her and within her—a part of each other. I gripped the blanket below us into the sand, grinding it into the beach. I could feel it coming. I gazed at Samantha who had her eyes closed, enjoying the moment.
“Sam,” I growled, as I perched myself over her. “Open your eyes. I want to see you. I want you to see me.”
She looked at me and I quickened to an almost frantic pace. Staring at her, she looked right through me. With a cry of deliverance, I found my release.
I dropped my body to rest on her tiny frame, my breath ragged with exhaustion as I said four words into her swee
t-smelling neck. “God, I love Mmmmm.”
15
MAC
After taking a deep breath, I moved to her side slowly, still lingering in the power of what had happened, wondering if she’d heard what I said.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I replied. “Just give me a minute. Are you cold?”
“A little,” she giggled. “But you were a pretty good blanket.”
We lay in the warmth of our bodies and the nearby fire. I pulled a towel over her and rolled to my side, propping my head up in my hand. I traced small lines and circles up and down Samantha’s bare arms and chest. She was the most dazzling creature I’d ever seen.
“Can I get you anything?” I asked, wanting to fulfill her every need.
“I’m fine.” She ran her hand over my face, tracing my eyebrows and nose with her delicate finger. Stopping on my lips, I took her finger in my mouth and gave it a couple of long socks with my tongue. She giggled, and I loved the way she made me feel.
My stomach growled loudly and I realized I hadn’t eaten much today. “Are you hungry? Because I’m pretty sure I just worked up a huge appetite.”
“Sure,” she said, reaching for our clothes lying beside us.
“Here, let me help you with that,” I said, picking up her dress to shake it out.
“That’s pretty impressive.” Sam stared at my post orgasmic, semi-hard penis.
“That’s what you do to me, baby,” I confessed, helping her to her feet and giving her a kiss.
I picked up my Levis and put them on, carefully buttoning them almost to the top but leaving some room for the monster to calm down.
“Where are we?” she asked, putting her sweater around her shoulders.
“A little island off of Pensacola. Good fishing here,” I said, pulling my gray T-shirt over my head.
She hesitated. “Do you own this island?”
“Maybe. What would it matter?”
“It doesn’t matter, I was just curious.”
“My great-grandfather bought it a long time ago. The plan was to have a house here for the guys to come deep sea fishing.”
“Do you fish here?” Samantha asked.
